


The Ultimate Experiment (Johnlock)

by TheSmartOne



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Drugs, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, TJLC | The Johnlock Conspiracy, Top John Watson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-08-14 18:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8024581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSmartOne/pseuds/TheSmartOne
Summary: Sherlock conducts an experiment that he feels will finally get John to act on his emotions.





	1. Chapter 1

**THE ULTIMATE EXPERIMENT - CHAPTER 1**

 

_"Can you imagine romance with _Sherlock_? _He'd poison_ his _girlfriend_ just to see if it works."  -Mycroft Holmes_

 

"John, what are your plans for this evening?"  Sherlock asked as he laid on the couch, John quietly moving about the flat.  "You've never had to ask me that before.  What are your deductions?"  John said a bit sassy.  Sherlock sighed and quickly glanced over in John's direction.  As he laid back, he began to speak.  "Oh so another date, judging by just your shoes.  And as for your clothes, I'd say you don't plan on coming home tonight.  Lovely."  Sherlock sighed.  "Have fun then."  Sherlock mumbled, then rolled over in a tiff.  "Don't act like I'm disappointing you.  You barely even notice when I am even here....or when I'm not."  He spat back.  

What John never knew is that Sherlock always noticed.  There was such a coldness to the flat when John wasn't there.  Usually Sherlock would enter his mind palace just to be with the John of his mind.  The John that knew the feelings that Sherlock had for him and acknowledged them.  The John that loved him just as much.  It was physically painful for Sherlock to watch John leave on these hollow dates that never amounted to anything.  He had to watch John briefly grieve each relationship, which always meant that he would become more distant and protective.  And unfortunately for John, this would be the night that his date dumped him.  He'd texted her 3 times throughout the day and she'd only replied once, and then it was only with a 3 letter response.  Not that he was peaking at John's phone, just observing.

"You should eat something."  John said from the door.  "Mhm" Sherlock replied with a slight smirk.  John's sporadic showings of affection, or at least caring, was the only things that kept him hopeful that one day, it would happen.  He was such a loving man...when he wasn't scared of his emotions. People often assumed that Sherlock didn't know the facets of love and sex, but that was a mistake on their parts.  A man that knows 43 different types of cigarette ash certainly could at least understand the basics of love and sex.  It was John who had difficulties with understanding it all.  He was afraid of his bisexual tendencies, which is why he always pulled away and never picked up Sherlock's attempts at flirting and wooing.  So those tender moments of John being caring and domestic is what Sherlock fed off of.  It was all he had...and the cocaine bottle.

As John left and Sherlock heard his footsteps disappear down the hall, he had an idea.  Usually when he knew that John would come home in a mood, Sherlock would dose himself with enough drugs to not feel the pain but not let his best friend know how high he was.  But tonight, he would experiment.  John needed something to lower the defenses that he wrapped himself in when feeling the pangs of homoerotic attraction.  Sherlock needed to know if it was just John being uncomfortable with his sexuality or if he truly didn't care for Sherlock as Sherlock did for him.  Sherlock had done something similar with alcohol before, but John was really no lightweight when it came to alcohol and it was a bit difficult to get him to truly relax.

Sherlock shot up from his supine position on the couch and hopped around the room preparing, his blue dressing gown flowing behind like a cape.  He suspected that if the night went like he imagined with the date, John would be back in no more than 2.5 hours.  There was not time to spare.  He had to make everything perfect.  As a graduate chemist, he knew the dosing, just not how John would react.  So he had to prepare in case John freaked out or passed out.  He also had to make his room perfect.  If he had it his way, that's where'd they end their night.

Not but 1.5 hours later, Sherlock heard John's footsteps coming back down the hall.  Sherlock always loved that sound.  His steps were widely gated and his feet were always fully grounded, though his steps seemed bouncy and light.  Sherlock had settled with pure MDMA dissolved in John's favorite self pity drink...whiskey, straight up.  Sherlock had changed his dressing gown to a new one, with only pajama bottoms underneath.  He didn't plan to be subtle anymore.  This was the ultimate experiment and there was no room for shyness.  He wanted John and he had to know if John wanted him.  It was exciting and dangerous.  He knew that once John found out that Sherlock drugged him, there'd be hell to pay.

John furiously opened the door to find Sherlock in his chair, dressing gown open and chest exposed.  "I'm sorry."  Sherlock whispered as John plopped in his own chair, seeming to not realize Sherlock's suggestive pose.  "You knew."  John growled accusingly.  "And you let me humiliate myself."  He added clenching his left hand into a fist.  "I can't be expected to warn you every time.  You waste your time with these women."  Sherlock threw back at him, frustrated at his lack of observation.  "Here."  He said thrusting the whiskey at John. "When did you start making me drinks?"  John sighed as he took the glass.  "Now."  Sherlock said with a roll of his eyes.  John downed the whiskey in 3 gulps, shivered, shook his head, then let out a satisfied sigh.  "Thanks."  He muttered happily sinking back into the chair.  Sherlock was glad that John didn't notice how interested he was that the glass was empty.  Sherlock calculated that he now had 27 minutes of small talk to get through before the effects were fully felt.  He wanted to take this time to be suggestive.

"Was she a good lay?"  Sherlock asked, sipping a cup of tea.  He shot his eyes at John over the delicate tea cup, locking their eyes.  John immediately furrowed his brow and parted his lips.  "What!?" John laughed incredulously.  "Sex John, sex."  Sherlock said as he place the cup back into the saucer.  John's eyes widened.  Sherlock could see his pupils already beginning to dilate, but he still had several minutes to go.  "I know what a lay is, Sherlock.  I am just confused on why you have all of a sudden become interested in my sexual experiences."  John said a tad breathless.  He was getting scared of his emotions again.  "It just seems that you liked her."  Sherlock added, then added quickly, "I could only imagine that your fondness for her came from the physicality."  John shifted in his chair uncomfortably and broke his gaze with Sherlock.  "I am not having this conversation with you."  John almost squealed.  Sherlock could see John's blood pressure rising and his skin begin to dampen with sweat.  It wouldn't be long now.

"What was it that she did that you like so much?"  Sherlock asked calmly, licking his lips and narrowing his eyes.  "Jesus Sherlock!"  John almost shouted as he tried to launch himself out of the chair.  Only he didn't rise out of the chair as he expected, but in turn, fell back into the chair in a cloud of euphoria.  "You should stop throwing your drinks back so quickly, John."  Sherlock almost giggled.  The time was near and Sherlock's excitement was almost tangible.  John also began to giggle.  He noticed that his clothes seemed heavy and almost a nuisance on the skin.  He wanted nothing more than to take them off.  He noticed his pulse racing and his body warming, but couldn't concentrate to figure out why.  Sherlock's eyes flickered at John's lucidity, his body twitching in anticipation.

"Sherlock, what...." John sighed as he tossed his head back and closed his eyes.  Before John could finish his thought, Sherlock was standing above him, dressing gown discarded on the floor.  John didn't see him, but felt him.  "Don't worry about it, just succumb to it."  Sherlock whispered, leaning down and grazing John's ear with his lips.  John's sharp inhale just egged Sherlock on.  "You're stunning."  Sherlock sighed as he looked at his love.  John's eyes shot open and tried to focus on Sherlock.  "What's happening!?"  John asked hotly.  "You are attracted to me right?"  Sherlock asked without answering his question.  "I...I...don't know."  John slurred.  Sherlock's only response was to straddle John.  He hooked his knees on either side of him and brought his face, inches from John's.  John shuddered at the feeling.

"Are you attracted to me?" Sherlock asked again, this time finishing the question with a light graze of his lips against John's.  "God yes."  John moaned.  Sherlock's full weight was pressing against John, their bodies only separated by thin fabric and the last of John's defenses.  John crushed his lips against Sherlock's, his hands immediately tangling in his soft raven colored curls.  Sherlock's moan of satisfaction was laced with years of tension and needed release.  The frantic nature of the kiss almost scared Sherlock.  It was all too much too fast.  But John wasn't scared anymore judging by the light grinding of his hips.  Sherlock realized at that moment just how big his doctor was and how much he needed it....

 


	2. The Ultimate Experiment - Chapter 2

**THE ULTIMATE EXPERIMENT - CHAPTER 2**

 

_"_ _My brother has the brain of a scientist or a philosopher, yet he elects to be a detective. What might we deduce about his heart?"  -Mycroft Holmes_

 

By the time John broke the kiss, Sherlock was whimpering like a love sick puppy.  John had moved his hands from his hair to his shoulders, pulling him just far enough away to look into his eyes and gauge his reaction.  Sherlock was smitten by John's low, glossy bedroom eyes, laced with intoxication and lust, so he went back for the kiss.  John's quick denial startled Sherlock, John had turned his head slightly and gave Sherlock his typical look of questioning. This time though, his look was dripping with chemical aphrodisia. Maybe he was coming around, deducing for himself that he was drugged and led into debauchery against his free will.  But instead of seeming angry, John was in total bliss.  "I need you to be ready.  I don't think I can be gentle."  John whispered, biting his bottom lip.  Years of sexual frustration crackled between them like a static charge. Sherlock then began to wonder if he truly was ready for it all, but it was too late to turn back now.  His soldier had taken control. John was not just the caring doctor that reminded Sherlock to eat and sleep regularly, but also a full blown soldier, fearless, assertive, and dangerous.

"Yes, Sir."  Sherlock murmured softly as if a naive private on his first field mission.  In a single, swift, fluid motion, John pushed Sherlock from his lap, tucked one of his knees under him, and made him stand. "Bedroom."  John simply added before standing himself.  Sherlock was dizzy from the lack of blood in his head and John's quick motion to put him on his feet.  He could feel John's presence behind him and hear the ragged, sex filled pants coming from him.  It was almost as if he was in a parallel world.  He had wanted this for so long and now it would happen; under false pretenses, but it would happen.  Sherlock had prepared the room for his lover; clean and manly, but hadn't intended on being the one told to go there. "I've always loved watching you walk in front of me..." John mumbled hotly, pulling Sherlock out of his head for a second. The statement put a smile on Sherlock's face immediately. "Ever wonder why I almost always walk behind you?" He added with a lascivious chuckle.

As they entered Sherlock's room, John immediately placed his arms around his lover's waist from behind and kissed his bare back and shoulders. Sherlock's eyes snapped shut in the sensation. John's lips were creating unbearable ripples of euphoria that percolated over his skin and coursed through his entire body. Every one of Sherlock's hairs stood on end as he fought to keep himself from sounding too easily pleased. John began to slowly drag his lips back and forth along Sherlock's seeming silk clad skin, then his cheeks, then his entire face. This is what Sherlock needed to right himself, a laugh. John was succumbing to the MDMA; he was preoccupied with skin contact at the moment. Its almost a visceral need, a proverbial itch needing to be scratched. Sherlock had to do everything to stifle his laugh. John was being too cute for words and his soldier took a quick break to let the goofy doctor back out. Sherlock began to think how wonderful of a time it would be to do research on the effects of MDMA if it wasn't also the exact same time that he was planning to make love to the participant of the study. 

The sudden coolness of air rushing between them pulled Sherlock from his racing mind once again. John had moved away from him, and as if a knee jerk reaction, Sherlock instantly spun on his heel to face him. Why had he pulled away? "What?" Sherlock almost squealed in desperation. "Come unbutton my shirt." John whispered, his voice, oddly steady and his body strangely controlled. Sherlock's soldier was back and was ready for battle. He was only ever that calm when actually in danger or a patient was between life and death. Sherlock didn't even think before his arms reached for John's shirt and began uncoupling each button. The air in the room suddenly became thick and heavy with pure carnality. Sherlock's fingers felt on fire. He deduced that his body was funneling extra blood to his fingers to heighten the sensory intake of touching John. His body was subconsciously trying to capture every single sensation that involved John Hamish Watson. Once Sherlock finished with the buttons, he dropped his hands by his side and admired the slit of exposed skin that was now visible between the separated buttons. John had definitely meant to go home with that girl, he didn't have a single signature layer underneath that button down. It was the first time that Sherlock had really seen John's chest in this way. He'd only really seen glimpses before and only when John was fresh from his shower or changing his shirt. It was different this time, it wasn't being projected as platonic such as before, it was a declaration.

"Touch me then. You want to." Sherlock heard through his libidinous haze. The words had dripped from John's mouth like honey and Sherlock melted at them. Sherlock's frenzied and weirdly apprehensive eyes met John's sexy, dark gaze. It took his breath away. "I said touch me. Don't make me say it again, okay?" John said just as quietly but this time, it peppered with dominant impatience. Sherlock didn't realize before, but it was not a question, it had been a command. As Sherlock gently grazed a few fingers over his chest, grazing the left nipple, John's eyes fluttered and his hips bucked slightly. John grabbed Sherlock's other hand and placed it on the straining bulge in his jeans. Sherlock couldn't think anymore. He could feel the throbbing heat and twitching muscles beneath the denim sheathing and it was all becoming too much. John's guttural moans and slowly grinding hips made Sherlock's head spin. But before Sherlock could recover, John stopped all movements and pinned Sherlock's hands still. The only movement was the ragged breathing shared between them and the involuntary throbbing of John's groin. John stared into Sherlock's eyes and licked his lips. A smirk soon crept to those lips and with one last grind against Sherlock's hand, John commanded him again. 

"On your knees..."

 

 


	3. The Ultmate Experiment - Chapter 3

_"Don't get involved."  -Mycroft Holmes"_

Sherlock’s heart pounded as he slowly fell to his knees in response to John’s command. His mouth salivated at the thought of what came next. His body trembled as he thought of every scenario that could take place. He looked up at John and saw his lover gazing at him with such a deep lust that it almost scared Sherlock. Locking with John’s eyes was almost too much, so he turned his gaze to the bulge in front of his face. John’s erection strained against his jeans, begging to be let free from its denim prison. Sherlock couldn’t stop the surprised gasp from leaving his lips as he felt John’s fingers comb through his hair. As long as Sherlock could remember since meeting John, he wondered what it would have felt like if John’s strong fingers grabbed at his curls.

“I’m sure you know what to do next.” John whispered down at Sherlock. He was still too caught up with the sensation of such masculine fingers in his hair, but he indeed knew to do. “Yes, I do.” Sherlock answered, a slight vibrato in his voice. “Then get on with it.” John sighed sexily. Sherlock moved his right hand to the button of John’s trousers, his left grazing the pulsing bulge as he brought it to the button as well. The noise that John made, coupled with the slight bucking of his hips was the most erotic thing Sherlock had ever seen and heard. He couldn’t have imagined that he would get such a response from the man he pined after for years. But here it was, in hot flesh and blood, surround sound, and hyper realism.

Sherlock unsnapped John’s jeans and slowly lowered the zipper. John sighed with relief as the pressure was released by Sherlock’s fingers. He again, slightly bucked his hips toward Sherlock, but Sherlock had paused. John could see Sherlock’s brain processing what his eyes were seeing. “You aren’t that surprised are you?” John giggled. “You’ve been watching the way I walk for years now.” He added, taking his cock into his own hand. He gently stroked it, continuing to watch Sherlock. Sherlock tore his gaze away and locked eyes with John again. Another crackle of electricity formed between them as Sherlock stared into John’s eyes. John’s eyes were laced with pride and want, Sherlock’s with surprise and need. “Are you saying you can’t handle it then?” John whispered, this time inching a bit closer to Sherlock’s mouth. “Of course I can.” Sherlock finally answered, turning his attention back to John’s massive erection. “I just didn’t realize that my tiny doctor wasn’t so tiny after all.” He added, giggling at his own joke.

John began to trace the head of his cock over Sherlock lips, reveling in the excitement of the foreplay. Sherlock could do nothing but close his eyes in the sensation. His tongue wanted to taste him so badly. Sherlock opened up a little wider, letting John ease into his awaiting mouth. John gasped loudly as Sherlock wrapped his warm, wet lips around him. John’s hand immediately tangled back into Sherlock dark curls, them damp with his sweat. John’s squeals only egged Sherlock on. He took John in as far as he could take him, surrounding him with his need, then he pulled back, then slid him back in. At this point, John could barely stand, Sherlock made him weak in the best of ways.

Sherlock was a slut for pleasuring others, though it may have not seemed that way in everyday life. The fact that John was loving his tongue and technique made his own cock drip with excitement. Sherlock slipped a hand into his own pajama pants and stroked himself. The vibration from Sherlock’s moan brought John so close that he pulled himself free with a deep inhale and subsequent growl. He had a handful of Sherlock’s hair, the other hand clutched into a tight fist. Sherlock looked up at him, still stroking himself. John’s eyes were closed, his jaw clenched. Sherlock could barely handle the scene he was apart of. He was on his knees, the only man he has ever wanted so badly was above him, his hard cock almost pressed against his face, and John was pulling his hair in just the right way.

Sherlock stroked himself harder as John opened his eyes. John could barely open them half way, they were too clouded with lust. Seeing Sherlock on his knees practically begging to be gagged, masturbating, and looking deliciously vulnerable was beyond titillating. This was the first time that John stopped to think about what was going on. He knew he felt funny, but what was going on? Every touch felt magnified by 100 and he almost blew his load in his best friend’s mouth in under a minute. It wasn’t like him. He couldn’t even remember how they even got to where they were. It was all strange, but he didn’t want it to end just yet.

“Put it back.” Sherlock whimpered now bucking his hips into his hand. “Please.” He added when John smiled at him. “You’re a little whore aren’t you?” John whispered, touching the tip to Sherlock’s lips again. Sherlock immediately stuck his tongue out and lapped up John’s invitation. “Mhm.” Sherlock moaned, sucking him completely into his mouth once again. John jerked at the sensation and put both hands into Sherlock’s hair. Sherlock kept one hand in his pants, but the other aided his mouth in pleasing his lover. John threw his head back in pure ecstasy, thrusting his hips in time with Sherlock’s tempo.

“Sherlo…” John panted trying to stop him, but Sherlock kept up his luscious assault. “Not yet.” John almost pleaded. Sherlock could feel John starting to cascade over the edge, but he wanted it. He wanted to taste every bit of him. Suddenly a rush of quiet growls began to rise from deep within John. His head fell forward and he braced himself on Sherlock’s shoulders. Sherlock enveloped him tighter, until he felt the warmth and tasted the sweet saltiness of John’s orgasm fill his eager mouth. John clutched Sherlock shoulder so tightly that Sherlock could feel his nails digging into his skin. John’s pleasure mixed with the pain of nails against flesh made Sherlock soon follow. As John spilled himself into Sherlock, Sherlock moaned passionately against him, and released himself against the soft cotton of his pants. Sherlock swallowed as John pulled from him, slid to his knees, and rested his forehead against Sherlock’s chest. “You’re gonna pay for your defiance.” John moaned against Sherlock’s chest.

After a minute with no response, John glanced up at Sherlock and found him staring into space, dried tear tracks staining his face……


End file.
